"And there are many more reports here."
Beppo pulled out a stack of newspapers he had been sitting on and spread them across the table. "According to Reuters, in this domestic terrorist attack in the United States, Coast City has been largely destroyed. Initial estimates place the death toll at over six hundred thousand, with more than a million injured. The terrorists responsible were reportedly exiled former government militants. The organization includes former U.S. officials, congressmen, and mercenaries. The attack was meticulously planned. Missile warheads carrying nuclear payloads, along with heavy weaponry, were all deployed within Coast City. There are also reports suggesting that a former U.S. president may have ties to the incident."
After finishing, Beppo picked up another crumpled paper.
"This one is from Agence France-Presse. At six this morning, media outlets released insider information about yesterday's invasion. U.S. Customs and Homeland Security suspect the LuthorCorp Group may be connected to the terrorists. In response, CEO Lex Luthor and several board members are scheduled to attend a hearing this afternoon. Developments are ongoing."
He did not pause before continuing.
"Deutsche Presse-Agentur reports that the United States has entered a full state of emergency. The stock market continues to decline due to the attack. Rescue teams have arrived in Coast City, and Kansas has deployed the National Guard to assist."
Another paper followed.
"This final report is from the Associated Press. The central figure in this incident, President Homelander, has yet to appear in any government department."
Beppo lowered the paper, his expression difficult to read. "Most headlines are about him. He has become the most undeniable hero in the world."
"Funny," Constantine said as he dropped into a nearby seat, causing the surrounding piles of books to tremble. "I thought you were hiding here to avoid caring about things like this."
Beppo quickly steadied the stacks before they could collapse. "I should have known. Whenever you show up, something suffers first, and today it's my books."
"Sorry. The way you've arranged this place, even a cockroach could cause a disaster, let alone me."
The apology sounded more like a jab, and Beppo's frown deepened.
"Just be careful. This isn't a place where you can move freely."
He turned his attention back to The New York Times. "Half a city has been reduced to ashes, yet people act as if nothing happened. The survivors celebrate victory without a trace of mourning for the dead."
"That's human nature," Constantine replied, exhaling a thin stream of smoke. "When a crisis ends, people feel relief first. Gratitude follows. As for the dead, they offer a few words of pity and move on."
Beppo set his glass down. "After this, no one will be able to oppose him. Not just because of power, but politically as well."
"That's exactly why I'm here," Constantine said, suppressing the urge to light another cigarette. "I need your help."
"With what?" Beppo adjusted himself on the sofa. "I'm just a detective. I don't have your kind of reach."
"You know you can do this." Constantine leaned closer, his tone sharpening. "Lately, I've felt something watching me. A presence. Tall, powerful, and radiating something deeply unsettling. I can sense it, but I can't identify it."
Beppo's expression shifted slightly.
"For the sake of my family," Constantine continued, "I need to know what it is. And if it ends up aligning with Homelander, then we are all in serious trouble."
Beppo studied him for a moment. Constantine rarely looked this serious.
"Alright," Beppo said slowly. "It's not often I see you like this. Whether it's to stop Adrian or investigate this entity, I suppose I should help. What do you need?"
"It's simple. Send me to meet something bigger."
"What kind of 'something'?"
"Trigon. I need to meet him and make a deal."
Constantine spoke with confidence, but it only made Beppo more uneasy. Everyone knew Constantine's promises rarely ended well.
"You want to bargain with a demon lord and expect everything to go smoothly?" Beppo muttered under his breath. "You really think you're the hero of this story?"
Out loud, he sighed. "I'd like to help, but I can't guarantee anything. My magic isn't exactly reliable, especially for something like this."
"I trust you," Constantine said, closing the distance between them. "You know enough. Help me draw a dimensional circle. Once it's ready, you can send me to his domain."
"And if you end up in Hell?" Beppo countered. "Trigon is no ordinary entity. If you land there, every demon will be waiting to tear you apart. Many of them would love a piece of your soul."
"I know what I'm doing," Constantine replied evenly. "Hell can wait. Not until this is resolved. Besides, I already have a strong suspicion about what I'm dealing with. I just need confirmation."
Beppo hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. Good luck."
He gathered the newspapers and moved toward the towering stacks of books. After rummaging through them for several minutes, he pulled out an old, weathered volume and dropped it onto the table with a heavy thud.
"Found it."
"Perfect." Constantine stood, flicked his cigarette into the trash, and immediately lit another. "Let's begin."
An hour later, Constantine's vision blurred. When it cleared, he found himself standing in a world drenched in red.
Flames stretched endlessly across the landscape, their glow illuminating thick smoke and shadow. The air shimmered with heat, creating a suffocating, hellish atmosphere.
Yet Constantine remained steady.
He knew this was not Hell.
If it were, something like the being before him would not stand alone.
The creature towered dozens of meters high, its body engulfed in blazing hellfire. Crimson skin, massive horns, and pointed ears marked it unmistakably as a demon. Six eyes burned with terrifying intensity, each one fixed on Constantine.
Trigon.
Despite the overwhelming presence, Constantine showed no fear. He stood upright, meeting the demon's gaze without hesitation.
"So," he said casually, "can I borrow a light?"